Finding Home by Kate Field (books for 6 year olds to read themselves .TXT) 📕

of the stones jabbing her bottom and the backs of her legs. Discomfort was good. Discomfort meant she was alive. Then coughs wracked her body, and she rolled over and threw up.

‘That’s good. Get it all out.’ It was a female voice and the words were followed by a gentle pat on the back. Mim opened her eyes. A woman wearing a wetsuit was standing over her. She was aged around fifty and her chin-length hair was slicked back with water.

‘Thank you,’ Mim said, but she was overtaken by another bout of coughing before she could say more.

‘Should I ring for an ambulance?’ Another woman appeared and studied Mim – a younger woman, aged around forty, also wearing a wetsuit. Hers was dry.

‘What do you think?’ the first woman asked Mim. ‘How do you feel? Do you want to be checked out?’

‘No.’ Mim didn’t want to make a fuss or to shatter the peace of the morning by bringing an ambulance screaming through the village. ‘I’m fine. Thank you.’ Her words trailed off on a shiver.

‘You’re cold. Do you think you can walk? Take her other arm, Heather, and let’s get her back to the camper to warm up.’

Without waiting for a reply, the two women took one arm each and hoisted Mim to her feet. She stumbled and coughed again – her legs felt boneless and her lungs ached – but she managed to stay upright. They staggered slowly across the beach towards her bag of clothes, and Heather, the younger of her two rescuers, picked it up and wrapped Mim in her towel before they carried on back up the path to the village car park. Every step felt like a marathon to Mim and she hadn’t stopped shivering, even with the towel.

A racing-green VW camper van was parked at the far side of the car park, and the women helped Mim towards it. The gravel of the car park jabbed into the soles of her feet. The older woman unlocked the door, climbed inside, and drew the curtains across the windows.

‘There you go,’ she said, gesturing for Mim to enter the van. ‘Go in and get dry and dressed. Can you manage on your own?’

Mim nodded. She took her bag from Heather and stepped into the camper van. She stripped off her wet swimming costume and threw it in the washing up bowl, then rubbed vigorously with the towel, trying to generate some heat. Her limbs still felt cold and clammy as she pulled her clothes back on. She was just struggling to pull her socks over her numb toes when the door slid open.

‘Are you decent?’ The older woman peered in. ‘Budge up on to the driver’s seat a minute. I need to get this wetsuit off.’ She paused. ‘I’m Karen, by the way, and that’s Heather outside. It seems polite to exchange names before you see me in the buff.’

‘I’m Mim.’ She scrambled across the tiny floorspace to the driver’s seat, which was rotated to face the interior of the van. Karen peeled off her wetsuit and threw it out of the open door before getting dressed. She opened a deep drawer that was concealed beneath a bench seat and took out a couple of blankets. She passed one to Mim and wrapped the other round her own shoulders.

‘Here. Wrap yourself in that. I’ll make you some tea.’

Karen produced an old-fashioned singing kettle and placed it on the small gas hob that formed part of the kitchenette running down one side of the van. As she opened the curtains, and Heather stepped in and slid the door shut, Mim took a proper look at her surroundings. It was a compact space but well kitted out, and gorgeously decorated. The upholstery was covered in luscious green velvet to match the exterior, and the kitchen cupboards were painted with a glossy cream coating and finished with gold handles. The colour scheme was reflected in the cushions and curtains as well as the rug on the floor. It was a wonderful, cosy space. Mim couldn’t help a pang of envy. This would have made a perfect place to sleep in instead of the Volvo.

Karen handed round three mugs of tea and then sat on the bench seat next to Heather, facing Mim.

‘Let’s get one thing straight,’ Karen said. ‘Did I stop you or save you?’

‘Stop me…? Oh!’ Mim took a moment to realise what Karen meant. ‘No, it was an accident. Of course I didn’t mean to…’ She shook her head and sipped her tea. It seemed to be half sugar, but she drank it gratefully, feeling the warmth returning to her limbs at last. ‘I would never do that.’

‘Good. In that case, you can have a biscuit.’ Karen opened a kitchen cupboard and pulled out a packet of chocolate biscuits and offered it round. ‘Life’s precious to both of us. We don’t like to see it wasted.’

For the first time, Karen smiled, and the atmosphere in the camper van relaxed; concern took over from the tension that Mim had hardly registered before.

‘I’m sorry I ruined your swim,’ Mim said, looking at Heather.

‘Don’t worry about it.’ She smiled. ‘This is our first time back after the Christmas break. I wasn’t sure I could face the cold again. Now I can feel pleased with myself without having got wet. It’s win-win.’

Mim’s laugh turned into another cough.

‘Do you swim here regularly?’ she asked, when the cough subsided.

‘Every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday,’ Karen said. ‘I’ve been doing it for a year now and Heather … what is it? Four?’

‘Just over.’ Heather nodded. ‘I started five months after we lost Carmel.’ She looked at Mim. ‘My daughter died of meningitis when she was two. I needed to get away from the house with all its reminders and do something that was physically and mentally exhausting. That probably sounds silly but it worked. It kept me sane.’

‘And I started about a year ago,’ Karen said. ‘Similar reasons. My partner, Susie, had been diagnosed